Scene It
by absolutely ordinary
Summary: Alternate/extended scenes and alternate POVs from the saga. Each chapter is a new, separate scene.
1. Eclipse Alternate: Battle Scene BPOV

**A/N:** Twilight is Meyer's. No copyright infringement intended.

**Note:** This is not a single story, but a collection of alternate/extended scenes. These scenes are posted in the order in which I wrote them, NOT in the saga's chronological order.

This first scene is an alternate version of the Victoria battle scene in Eclipse: Bella uses the rock to draw blood.

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**BPOV**

I squeezed the rock in my hand so tightly my arm shook. A support in my brace snapped under the strain. It should have hurt. But it didn't.

I didn't feel it. I didn't feel anything but the terror, the desperation. Riley's lips curled back over his teeth as he closed in on Seth. The wolf still didn't move. Edward and Victoria continued to struggle a few feet away; Edward couldn't help Seth. It had to be me. I had to do this. I had to do it now.

With the point of the stone, I pushed up my sleeve. The scar in the crease of my elbow beckoned to me, showing me where to strike, where the blood was sure to run freely. A cut there was all it had taken to have every friendly vampire's attention riveted to me. Victoria wanted my blood more than anyone. She wouldn't be able to resist. But Edward could; Edward would. The distraction would save him. And Seth.

I clenched my jaw and pressed the jagged rock to the vein beneath my scar. My eyes lifted, found Edward. I watched him as I bit down hard on my lip and drove the spike into my skin. I didn't look away from him as I traced the scar's entire length, tearing open the flesh and letting the blood run.

Pain registered, dull beneath the throbbing fear. The scent hit me immediately. Rust and salt had me gagging. But I didn't have time to react.

The blow came from the side. A blur flew at me, not from the direction I was watching. It wasn't Victoria.

Riley.

His body slammed into mine full-force. I felt my ribs splinter with the impact, but I couldn't even gasp before my back hit the cliff wall behind me and my lungs were emptied of air. My head cracked against stone. The world swam. Mangled hands clawed at me, grabbing my bleeding arm and wrenching it forward. I felt a snap in my shoulder as I was jerked away from the cliff, toward another hard surface. My arm was turned upward, blood streaming. I heard the predatory snarl low in my ear, anticipatory, gleeful.

Then I heard the roar.

The hands were ripped away from me when an impact exploded inches from my face. The shriek was delayed, following the blow. I fell to the ground, panting, trying to breathe around the pain in my ribs. My head felt heavy, disconnected. I struggled to lift it, to see.

An arm twitched in the grass near me. It wasn't attached to a body. Riley was gone. But it wasn't his arm – it was female. Victoria's.

I looked toward where she last had been, but a pained howl drew my attention. I turned toward the sound. Riley was struggling with Seth…. Riley was _biting_ Seth.

A streak blurred into my vision, flame and snow. A growl rattled beside me. Then, suddenly, a shrieking, a grating, and the sound of another explosion, rock hitting rock, a few feet away. Seth whimpered, then snarled. Riley screamed. Edward's voice flowed under the sound, liquid and fast, enraged. More grating sounded, closer this time. I tried to lift my head, but I could only turn it. I could see movement, too fast to make out, then there was another loud squealing. With a thud, something landed and rolled into my line of vision.

A head, with a mane of wavy red hair.

I closed my eyes then, listening to the sounds of rock being shredded. Seth's growls grew louder, then tapered off as Riley's screams faded into gargles and silenced. Seth was still working when a cold hand found my hair, my face. "Bella? Bella, love, please, look at me. Open your eyes, Bella."

It took all my energy to open them, but when I did, the topaz shining only inches away was worth the struggle. The panic there eased a tiny bit when I met his gaze. "Edward," I whispered.

His face contorted. "Seth's been bitten," he said shortly. I felt his wintry hands wrapping something around my arm, tying it tightly to slow the bleeding. "I have to help him. Stay with me, Bella." His lips pressed against my forehead, and his voice cracked with his next desperate whisper. "I'll be right back. Please, stay with me."

I tried to speak again, to tell him I wasn't going anywhere. But I couldn't move my lips. My entire body felt numb. I was aware of the gentle breeze of his departure as I let my eyes drift closed.

It was the last thing I knew.


	2. BD Epilogue: Ireland EPOV

**A/N:** Here's a Breaking Dawn epilogue from Edward's POV, set a little over 10 years after the end of the novel. Thanks for reading.

**EPOV**

"Who are _they_?"

My head turned instinctively toward the sound of the unfamiliar voice. A petite blonde was staring toward our table from across the small cafeteria. She was the newest addition to the junior class, a transfer student from the next county, and it seemed she already had noticed my family's unique appearance. Luckily for her, she was seated beside Abigail, one of Emmett's most devout admirers, who assuredly would regale her for hours with stories about us, most of which would feature my imposing brother and his muscular physique.

Sure enough, Abigail launched into gossip mode as I looked away from the newcomer's probing gaze. "The Cullens and the Hales," she said lowly, her voice conspiratorial. "They moved here from the United States last year."

I listened to the Irish lilts with vague interest. Abigail pointed out the Hales first, the "blond twins, Rosalie and Jasper." Then she moved on to the Cullens, "Alice, Edward, and," she sighed, "Emmett." I tried not to snicker when Emmett smirked and Rosalie kicked him, hard, under the table, making his chair slide backward with a harsh screech over the tile floor.

A few people at the next table glanced over at the noise. I picked up the apple from my tray and studied it to keep from looking as amused as I was. "Nice one, Rosalie," I taunted. "Next time, just flip his chair over."

Alice elbowed me in the ribs. "Don't encourage her."

"Yeah," a new, deep voice said at my side. "Encourage me. I'd love to flip Blondie on her butt."

I'd smelled him coming, of course. But the scent of his skin didn't bother me anymore. I simply rolled my eyes as he sank heavily into the chair two seats down from me, carefully leaving one empty seat between us. "Jacob, please. Not in front of the new girl."

"Oh, right." Jacob promptly began helping himself to the food on my untouched tray. He shoved three monstrous bites of pizza into his mouth and spoke around it. "Brittany, right? She check us out already?"

"In the process." Another scent hit me, and I smiled a moment before a warm hand squeezed my shoulder. "Ness," I greeted my daughter as she passed me on her way to the seat between Jacob and Rosalie.

I was still smiling when Renesmee sat and grinned back at me. Her brown eyes, Bella's eyes, shone brightly when she replied, "Edward."

She still enjoyed calling me by my name in public, even after a decade of the charade. She never slipped, carefully managing to call me Dad at home and Edward in front of the humans. I stared at her for a moment, still finding myself amazed by the miracle of her, before I could look away from those haunting eyes. She snatched a piece of pepperoni from Jacob's pizza and nibbled on it as she queried, "So, Abigail fill her in on Emmett yet?"

Alice laughed quietly. "She's about to tell her about the goat."

Emmett guffawed loudly, drawing attention again. He simply grinned at the students who glanced his way, and they quickly turned back to their lunches. "I told you the goat would be classic."

Rosalie growled at him. "I hate that story."

I ignored her. The cafeteria door made no sound, but I knew that it opened. I felt the air change as the new arrival stepped in; I sensed every footstep that I couldn't hear. Across the room, I heard Brittany whisper, "And who's that?"

The hand landed lightly on my shoulder and trailed the width of my back to the opposite shoulder, then ghosted down the length of my arm to slide into mine as its owner sat in the chair Jacob had left empty beside me. I smiled hugely as I turned. "Bella."

"Edward." She returned my smile, her golden eyes brilliant and laughing. Her hand squeezed mine, and suddenly her thoughts rushed in. She had lifted the shield from her mind for me, so I could hear her thoughts. _I love you_, she was thinking, loud and clear.

I lifted her hand to brush my lips over her knuckles. Across the room, Abigail was just answering Brittany's question. "That's Bella Cullen," she murmured. "Carlisle adopted her, too. She's with Edward."

Bella's smile widened. She'd heard, and even though her eyes had strayed to Jacob and Renesmee, her unshielded thoughts were for me. _Yes_, she thought. _I'm with Edward. I'm with my family._

_And I always will be._


	3. Bella Wakes Up: CPOV

**A/N:** I got on a bit of a Charlie kick, so the next three are from his POV. This scene is my first attempt from his head, so please forgive my Charlie learning curve. It's from New Moon, when Renee comes to take "zombie Bella" to Florida.

**Charlie's POV**

Renee folded another pair of jeans and tucked them into the corner of the suitcase. Her hands lingered, her fingers drifting over a small rust-colored stain on the knee. My throat caught when I noticed it. I recognized those jeans. That spot.

Mud from the forest floor that had soaked in so deeply it could never wash out. Mud that had absorbed for hours as Bella lay, cold and broken and alone as rain and night fell over her.

I clenched my jaw and shoved another T-shirt toward Renee. Relief flared as she pulled her hands away from those jeans to fold the shirt and pack it on top of the pants, carefully and unconsciously concealing the stain.

We had half the suitcase packed, and neither of us had spoken. We had said all we needed to say earlier, when we had discussed Renee's taking Bella to Florida. Renee was connected to Bella in a way I was not. Bella needed her. Maybe, with her mother, she would snap out of this… funk. And if she didn't…

I couldn't be the one to send her away.

It was weak, sending my daughter to be with her mother because I couldn't bear the thought of being the one to take her to a hospital and leave her. But I just couldn't do it. And I hated myself for that. I hated that I wasn't strong enough to take care of her, that I wasn't capable enough to help her, that she wasn't safe with me. I hated that I was failing as her father.

I hated him.

And if he ever came back, I would kill him.

Rage swelled inside my chest and I clenched my fists around whatever article of clothing was in my hands. My breathing quickened and my vision swam. I _hated_ him. I hated him for ever meeting my girl, for ever _looking_ at my girl. For ever thinking he was good enough for her. I hated him for ever being born.

And most of all, I hated him for having power over my daughter.

A small hand touched mine, and I realized that I was shaking. I looked over to see Renee frowning at me in concern. "Charlie? Are you okay?"

I worked to control my breathing. "Yeah," I muttered. "Sorry. I just… Sorry."

She worked my fingers gently, prying them open and removing the pajama pants from my grasp. I relaxed my grip, and she took the pants and shook them out before beginning to fold them. Her eyes roamed my face once, quickly, before turning back to the suitcase. She picked up the pajama shirt and added it to the suitcase before starting quietly, "This is really no one's fault, Charlie. Mistakes were made, but—"

I cut her off. "You've _seen_ her." I shook my head, trying to keep the rage in check this time. "You've seen what he did to her."

Renee looked at me sharply before turning back to the clothes again. It was fast, but I could see the pain in her eyes. "Yes," she whispered. "I've seen her."

I was about to respond when a quiet sound in the doorway behind me caught my attention. The eyes that met mine when I turned were too dark and sunken in the pale, gaunt face. No emotion registered in the moment our gazes met. It was a face with which I had become all too familiar.

My heart clenched again as Bella's lifeless eyes slid away from mine after barely touching on my face. I wasn't sure, _again_, if she had even seen me. Even when she stared right at me like she just had, for the three seconds her unfocused eyes would allow, I could never be sure that she saw me.

Her empty gaze floated past me to Renee. She didn't seem to be taking anything in as her eyes drifted dully from her mother to the suitcase on the bed. I'd seen too much of this to be surprised, but it still made me ache to think that Bella was gone.

I glanced over to see how Renee was handling it. She hadn't seen enough of Bella's zombie behavior to have adjusted yet. I knew that she was still expecting to see Bella smile at her. To hear Bella chide her about her latest ridiculous escapade. And in all honesty, that was what I expected, too, every time I looked at my daughter. But I'd had longer to adapt, and I knew that I needed to help Renee deal with the daughter she was taking home.

But Renee's expression surprised me. I stared at her for a moment, wondering why she looked so shocked. She knew what to expect from Bella. It was hard to accept, but she was prepared for it. Why did she look so stunned?

Slowly, I realized that she was staring at Bella. I turned back to the broken figure standing in the doorway.

She was different.

It took me a second to realize why. Her face had changed. Her eyebrows had drawn together slightly, forming that familiar little crease between them. As I watched, they gradually drew lower and heavier, and her eyes stilled and began to focus. A tiny spark kindled, brightening her gaze minutely. Her chapped lips parted as her eyes narrowed in concentration, as though she were trying to understand one of the calculus problems she hated so much.

Neither Renee nor I moved.

It took a moment for her gaze to focus enough for her to truly see. I could see the second she began absorbing the scene before her, when she started to comprehend what Renee and I were doing here in her room. Her mouth worked, her frown deepening, and it looked like she was trying to remember how to speak.

And suddenly, she did. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice low and raspy, almost weak from disuse.

I couldn't answer. I felt myself staring at her, my mouth hanging open with my breath caught in my throat. She blurred slightly, and I blinked quickly when I realized that there were tears in my eyes.

It was the first time she had truly reacted to anything, and it was the first time she had spoken without being asked a direct question. I was scared to answer her, scared to do anything to make her lose interest.

Renee recovered before I did. She took a small step forward. "Honey," she began, reaching a hand toward Bella as though she wanted to embrace her.

Bella's gaze moved to her mother. Something in her eyes snapped. "What are you doing?" she repeated, but this time her voice was dark, almost inhuman with fury.

Renee's hand slowly dropped. "Bella, you're coming with me. We're going to go to Florida."

There was a pause as Bella worked to understand. "No we're not," she said finally, her voice still low.

"Honey, your father and I thought that—"

For the first time, Bella focused on me. When she looked at me, brimstone fueled the fury in her near-black eyes. "I'm not going even if _he_ wants me to leave," she spat.

I flinched away from her hateful glare. Her words stabbed into my chest, burning their way into my heart. I couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. Renee reached for her again, and Bella turned back to her, pulling away from her touch. Renee hesitated. "He doesn't want you to leave, sweetheart. We just thought that after what happened, you would want to…" She trailed off as Bella's expression changed again.

The hate drained almost as quickly as it had come. The second Renee mentioned the incident in the woods, she realized her mistake, because Bella's reaction was instantaneous and visible. The rigid defiance melted into pure agony. Her face twisted in pain, and the hate in her eyes dissolved into desperation. "No," she whispered. "I can't. I can't. I can't."

The words became a chant, almost as though Bella were trying to lull herself back into the emptiness. Renee took the final step and stroked Bella's hair, touched her shoulder, rubbed her arm, anything she could to try to calm her. "Baby, please. You can get out of here. You can come with me to Florida where it's warm and sunny and we can just hang out on the beach until you feel better and you forget—"

"No," Bella broke in abruptly. Her voice hitched higher, and I recognized the beginnings of hysteria. "No! I'm not going. I won't!"

Renee's plea turned desperate. "Bella, sweetheart—"

"I'm not leaving! You can't make me leave!" Bella bucked out from under Renee's hands and shoved past her to get to the bed. Her hands flew into the suitcase. Clothes rained everywhere. She didn't stop until it was empty. Even then, she wasn't satisfied; she knocked the case to the floor with a resounding slap. When the bed was clear, her frenzy no longer had a target, and she stood, breathing heavily, searching for something tangible to attack, to halt the progress of her leaving Forks. Her chest heaved as her eyes bounced erratically around the room and the clothing scattered through it.

For a long moment, she didn't move. Then, slowly, her shoulders slumped and her chin fell to her chest, and her body shuddered with a violent sob. Renee and I watched helplessly as she curled in on herself and began to weep. Just before she could collapse to the floor, Renee moved to her and wrapped her up in her arms. And surprisingly, Bella clung to her, holding tightly to her as she cried.

As I watched, feeling totally helpless, I realized that I _had_ felt more powerless before. This – Bella's tears – was easier than the shell of her I'd been living with for a week. This Bella, at least, was alive.

And healing.


	4. Bella's Nightmare: CPOV

**A/N:** Charlie waiting for Bella's nightmare in New Moon. This is the first night he doesn't go to her room when she screams.

**Charlie's POV**

I stared at the dark ceiling. Waiting. The clock ticked on my night stand, counting the seconds until it came.

Any minute now.

My ears strained, even though I knew that they wouldn't have to. They picked up every sound in the silent house. Every floorboard that cracked as the building settled in around me, every brush of the wind against the siding, every quiet raindrop on the roof. I could hear everything but what I was waiting for.

If I closed my eyes, it would happen. It always did. Maybe, if I could just stay awake… Maybe it would break the pattern. It was superstitious, like believing wearing the same shirt on Mariner's game days would bring the same result. But superstitions sometimes turned out to have merit. And if keeping my eyes open would somehow shift the balance and end the cycle…. I could do that for her. I _would_ do that for her. I would do anything.

I pushed myself upright and settled back against the headboard. I would stay awake all night. I would sit here on my bed and stare into the darkness without moving until the sun rose if it would really give her eight hours of peace.

The clock kept ticking.

I folded my arms over my chest and glared into the darkness. Challenging it. Daring it to defy me.

Of course, it did.

The steady ticking, the light wind, the gentle rain, the velvety blackness…. It all worked together to pull my head down to my chest and my eyelids closed. I snapped back to attention and glared again.

But it was no wonder I was so tired that I could barely put up a fight. After all, Bella wasn't the only one who hadn't been sleeping.

That first night, I had been terrified. I'd checked on her a few times that night, just to be sure she was resting. She hadn't been… _right_ ever since the incident in the woods. I kept an eye on her as much as possible. And when she went to bed, I checked on her to ease my mind, to see that she was okay. To see that she was able to sleep.

I had barely drifted off myself when the screaming started.

I had rushed to her room, moving so fast I almost cracked my skull on her door. When I got to her, she was just ripping free of the dream. Her screams were desperate and wild. Agonized. When she realized that she was screaming, she covered her face with her pillow to stifle them. But she couldn't seem to stop them.

I didn't know what to do. I tried to comfort her, but I didn't know how. She didn't seem to hear me, anyway. I wanted to scream with her. I wanted to hit something, but there was nothing to hit. There was nothing to fight. Nothing to do that could make it better.

Eventually, she had been able to calm herself. Her screams had faded into whimpers, then from whimpers to quiet sobs. After a while, she had drifted into a kind of stupor, just staring blankly at the wall in the dark. But she didn't sleep again that night.

The next night had been the same. A repeat of the same unreachable, relentless horror for us both.

The screams awakened me every night now. Every night, Bella dreamed, and every night, the dreams traumatized her. She couldn't sleep without pain. I couldn't sleep without knowing that she was in pain. I still checked on her every time she cried out; the screams were just too horrific to ignore. She sounded like she was dying. Like someone was killing her.

In a way, I suppose someone was.

She managed to stifle the screams more quickly now. She seemed resigned to the dreams, as though she knew that they were coming and was just waiting for them to end so she could wake up to cry herself out again. The second she realized where she was, she would grab the pillow and cover her face to scream into it. I'd seen her do this so many nights now I doubted the image would ever fade. Every time night fell, I would see my daughter screaming into her pillow.

I wasn't sure which was worse: the shrieks or the blank stares.

The wind shook the shutters against the side of the house. The rain picked up on the roof. I didn't realize that the sounds had lulled me to sleep until the screaming woke me.

Instinctively, I started to scramble out of bed. To run to her, to protect her. But something in me froze, and I stopped before my feet even hit the floor.

I couldn't protect her.

The realization slammed into me. I ran to her every night with the same vain hope of stopping what was hurting her. But what was hurting her was… herself.

Her pain was coming from inside. I had seen her wrap her arms around herself and squeeze as though she were trying to hold herself together. I had seen the ache in her eyes. I had heard her gasp as though something had stabbed her when there was only a song, or a name, or a book. For whatever reason, she couldn't let go. She was trying to heal, but she wasn't sure what part went where anymore. She almost seemed physically changed, altered internally by her time with Edward. Her insides rearranged and unable to find their proper place again, and she left hurting as they shifted around within her, looking for a way to settle around the absence.

And that was something I couldn't defend her against.

I sank slowly back down onto my bed and listened to my daughter scream. The seconds ticked away as she emptied her lungs of her terror. Then, finally, the sound became muffled as she woke up and shoved her face into her pillow. I could hear her bed vibrating lightly as she shuddered away the horror. I listened to her every sound, seeing her all too clearly in my head. I shared her every shaking breath. Finally, everything grew quiet again, and I knew that she was staring at the wall in the dark, alone in her head.

In my head, I was with her. Protecting her. Defending her. The way a father should.

The way I never could.


	5. Finding Bella: CPOV

**A/N:** Last of Charlie's POV for a bit. From New Moon, when he searches the woods for Bella after Edward leaves. Thanks for reading.

**Charlie's POV**

_Going for a walk with Edward, up the path. Back soon, B._

I stared blindly down at the note in my hand. The words were a blur, but I didn't need to see them anymore. They swirled in my head without my needing to read them. Bella's scrawl wasn't any more illegible than normal. It wasn't slanted in hurry or agitation. It was just a note she'd left propped on the counter to let me know where she was when I got home, like any other day.

I lifted my head to look out the window again. Her truck was parked against the curb, like any other day. But unlike any other day, Edward's car didn't accompany it. Unlike any other day, it was growing dark, and Bella still hadn't returned from her walk with him. In the woods. With rain coming.

I looked back to where her book bag was slumped on the floor against the leg of the dining room table. She would have been back by now, I decided. Even if she had gone somewhere with Edward, she would have come back to tell me. To let me know that the note no longer applied.

Something was very wrong.

My heart clenched in my chest as I gave in. I'd been holding out for too long, thinking she would simply walk out of the trees and through the front door. I knew now, knew it in my gut, that she wasn't coming.

Gather facts. Evidence. Witnesses. My brain kicked into police mode. Missing child. I just had to pretend that she wasn't Bella. That she wasn't mine.

I jogged out the front door to our nearest neighbor. My fist banged on her front door a little harder than I had intended. She answered quickly, as though she had seen me coming. "Chief Swan?" she said in surprise, her brows lifting under her curly white hair.

"Mrs. Usher," I began, making my voice as level as I could. If anyone could help me with this part, I knew that it would be her. "Did you see whether a silver Volvo was at my house earlier this afternoon?"

"Yes," she replied immediately. "That handsome young man of your daughter's beat her home."

My heart squeezed painfully, and I fought to breathe. "When did he leave?"

"Hours ago."

"Was she with him?"

"No, he was alone." She studied my face as I reacted. "Are you all right?"

"I'm okay, Mrs. Usher. I'm just in a hurry. Thank you for your time." Before she could reply, I turned and all but sprinted back into the house. My head felt empty, my heart huge, too heavy and swollen for my chest. My fingers were numb when I grabbed at the phone. "Mark," I said quickly, interrupting my deputy's greeting. I struggled to focus as the world began to shiver a little at the edges. "I need you to get out to my house as soon as possible."

I sat down heavily at the table with my next words. "My daughter's missing."

* * *

"Over there," I called, pointing toward the eastern edge of the trees. Mr. Newton and his son, Mike, nodded at me and headed for the woods without question. Their flashlight beams bounced over the ground, bright spots in the moonless night, as they walked away from me.

I looked back down at the map I had spread over the hood of my cruiser. Mark studied it beside me in the light from our makeshift command central. The Newtons had been in the woods, calling for Bella for over an hour. Nearly thirty other men were out there with them, coming in occasionally for new location assignments. Seven men of various ages were standing around me now, waiting for my next decision.

Because I wasn't Bella's father right now. I was Chief Swan. I was in charge of this search and rescue.

My head was clear, focused. I was able to ignore that nagging voice in the back corner of my mind as long as I kept my attention on my job, on the men under my command. I pushed down the urge to pull Bella's now worn and ragged note from my pocket again to look at her words, just to feel connected to her. Instead, I circled another area on the map with my finger. "Stanley and Weber, you two head in about twenty yards west of the Newtons." I glanced at the two men and noticed that Angela's father's flashlight was growing dim. "There are new batteries in the backseat of Mark's cruiser."

He nodded at me and hurried off. Jessica's father went with him. I turned my attention to my deputy. "We've searched most of the front section of the woods. I want to get men deeper."

"Those Quileute boys are in there pretty deep," he replied. "I haven't seen them since they got here."

I considered that. The young men Billy had sent up from the reservation to help had all but disappeared into the pitch black of the woods the second they had arrived. They had only paused to assess the situation and talk briefly with me before they split up and headed into the trees at various angles. I wondered how much danger they were putting themselves into, going in alone like they had. It was really dark in those trees. And none of them had come out yet. No matter how well Billy claimed that they knew the woods, they still didn't need to be taking chances.

I was mulling over the best way to find the boys and bring them out when I heard another set of footsteps heading out of the trees. The voice in the back corner of my mind rattled its cage, demanding to be set free so I could fall into the anguish of another searcher emerging empty-handed. I shoved it farther back so I could concentrate.

The footsteps were oddly muted. One of the Quileute boys, then, I surmised, recalling how silently they had moved. Good. They needed to take a break, and they each needed to have a partner before they went back in.

I heard Mark's sharp intake of breath beside me. Before I could turn, a deep voice was calling, "I've got her!"

The prisoner in my mind exploded out of his cage.

I turned so fast the map flew off the hood of the car. My heart thudded in my ears, slammed painfully against my chest, too large again. My head felt disconnected. My body felt numb and heavy. But my eyes were almost painfully focused. Even across the distance, they immediately landed on my daughter, limp in Sam Uley's arms.

We met in the middle. Everyone was asking questions. The only person I heard was Sam. The only person I saw was Bella.

"No, I don't think she's hurt," Sam was answering someone. "She just keeps saying 'He's gone.'"

Bella bit her lip with his words, cutting off whatever she was mumbling to herself. She looked frighteningly vacant. Empty. Her eyes didn't focus on anyone around her. They were too dark, blindly staring. Her dark hair was tangled damply around her face, which was deathly white. Her clothes were wet and muddy; it was clear she'd been lying on the ground for a long time. Her arms and legs dangled lifelessly, almost disjointed. If her eyes weren't open, I would swear she was unconscious.

"Bella, honey, are you all right?" I asked quietly, fighting the emotions slamming through my chest and head.

Bella's brow furrowed slightly. "Charlie?" she whispered, seeming confused.

"I'm right here, baby." I reached out to Sam and gently slid my girl into my arms. I staggered a little under her weight. My relief was making my knees shake and my arms feel weak. I was afraid for a second that I would drop her. But she was mine, and she was here, and I had to take care of her. I was her father.

"Maybe I should hold on to her," Sam suggested lowly.

"I've got her," I replied quickly. I adjusted her slightly in my arms and started walking toward the house. She looked as though she wanted to protest, but she didn't have it in her to speak any more. She was just… blank. I fought the urge to run with her, to race into the house and lock her inside and keep everyone else out and away from her. I could feel everyone from the search party falling into step behind me like a funeral procession. It was unnerving. I focused on carefully picking my way through the slick grass.

"We're almost home now, honey," I heard myself telling her over and over. But I couldn't stop. I wanted her to know that she was safe. I wanted her to know that I would take care of her. I wanted her to be okay.

When we reached the house, Sam held the door open for me. I stumbled inside and to the couch. Bella protested weakly when I placed her on the cushions. "Dad, I'm all wet."

Her voice was toneless. She didn't sound like Bella at all. I stood and gazed down at her, seeing her pale and cold and muddy, curled up limply on her side. I imagined her lying that way, broken and hollow, on the wet forest floor. I felt a flash of anger at Edward for leaving her alone. For hurting her. For abandoning her. For _existing_.

Then the heat of my anger faded, and my heart sank. Because as she stared blankly ahead of her, I realized that he did no longer exist in her life. He was gone. But at the same time, he wasn't. He was there, in the emptiness of her eyes, in the paleness of her skin. He was carving a bigger and bigger hole in her heart as I watched.

And there was _nothing_ I could do.


	6. Twilight Cafeteria: EmPOV

**A/N:** Welcome to Emmett's head. Here's the cafeteria conversation scene of Twilight from his POV. Thanks for reading.

**Emmett's POV**

Rosalie was really put out with this Bella Swan situation. I didn't understand why. She was just a human. So Edward had a thing for her. Big deal. Edward was obsessive about a lot of things. And now he was obsessing over this girl. I didn't know why everyone was so ruffled by her.

I mean, she did smell good. Really good, actually. But Edward wanted to _think_ about her, not _drink_ her. According to Alice, he was falling in love with her. The whole thing was just too weird for me.

Like right now, when we walked into the cafeteria. Alice had warned us that he wouldn't be sitting with us today. But to walk in and see the guy sitting alone at a table that was usually abandoned, clearly waiting for the Swan girl….

_Lost his mind, poor kid._

I rolled my eyes and shook my head as I walked by him, trying to keep up with Rosalie, who had stalked past his new seat in a fury. I thought about asking if she just wanted to skip lunch. It's not like we ate anyway. But she was already seated at our table when I caught up with her, and she was focused on glaring a hole in the back of Edward's head, so I figured I had no chance at talking her into leaving. She wanted to keep an eye on this new development. A murderous eye.

I shot a glance at Edward, half expecting him to keel over. Or at least look uncomfortable. But he didn't pay any attention to us after we passed his table. Instead, he was on alert, his eyes on something across the room.

Swan.

Either she hadn't seen him, or she was ignoring him. Since he didn't look perturbed, only anxious, I assumed the first. I took the chance to look at her while she was still unconnected to us. While it was safe.

Before Edward did whatever crazy thing he was planning to do.

She was just a human girl. Long dark hair, really pale skin. She could almost pass for one of us already…. I cringed a little. _Already? _I shot a fast glance at Edward. He hadn't heard my thoughts. Good.

I looked back at Swan. She had barely moved in the food line. Sometimes human speed had its advantages. I could study her before the humans took five steps. She was carefully not listening to Jessica Stanley, that was obvious. She looked sad about something. Distracted. And even though she was taller than Stanley, she looked _little_. I almost snickered. This tiny little human was causing a ton of trouble – and she didn't even know it.

Swan took one step forward, still not listening to Stanley. I looked away. She was pretty, I'd give Edward that. And she seemed… a lot different from other humans, somehow. But I didn't see whatever it was that drew him to her so desperately. Maybe it was just because he couldn't read her mind and it made him too curious for his own good.

Shrugging it off, I turned to Rosalie. She was still glaring at Edward; she seemed determined not to let him make a move without her knowing about it. And _she_ wasn't moving. I nudged her a little to remind her to fidget like a human. Her frown darkened and she moved in her chair, but she didn't look away from Edward. I rolled my eyes.

I could tell when Swan noticed him. I could hear Stanley point out his stare, and I could hear Swan make her way to him. Alice was unusually intent as Edward began talking. She was as crazy about this girl as he was. All wrapped up in her future.

I still didn't understand what all the fuss was about. Either he killed her or he didn't. The guy just needed to make up his mind and _do_ something. I guess sitting with her at lunch was a _start_, at least. I nudged Rosalie again. This time her hand flashed out, too fast for the humans to see, and smacked my arm away. The sound of the blow, stone on stone, drew a little attention. I quickly settled back before the humans could focus on us. By the time they did, neither of us looked like we'd moved.

I noticed that Edward and the girl didn't observe the exchange. They were too busy discussing her theories about what he was.

Man, he was pushing it.

This little infatuation of his was interesting, I guess. Even if Jasper still looked irritated by the whole thing, it definitely had Alice and Rosalie's attention. But it was a risk, for us and for the girl. How long could he really keep from killing her? Really… how long could something like this go on?

I glanced toward Edward's table. The girl was facing us, but focused on Edward. She looked more fragile than other humans. I had no idea how Edward planned on keeping her alive.

Partly because I was seriously beginning to think that if Edward didn't kill her, Rosalie would.

My girl was _fuming_. I nudged her again, but this time I whispered, "Let's go."

She seethed a moment. Alice focused on her. "Rose," she said firmly. "Let's go."

Jasper and I stood, flanking Rosalie. She kept glaring at Edward for a moment before snarling quietly and standing between us. Alice slipped carefully behind her as we walked out of the cafeteria.

We were barely out the doors before Rosalie was spitting and swearing so fast even I could barely understand her. I didn't touch her. I just walked beside her with Jasper on her other side and Alice behind her. Leading her away from the cafeteria.

Away from the Swan girl.

The tiny little human who was causing more trouble in our lives than we'd had in one hundred years.

I wanted to laugh, but I was afraid Rose may try to rip my face off. So I settled for a hidden grin.

I think I'm going to like this Bella after all.


	7. At the Airport: CaPOV

**A/N:** Carlisle's POV of the Cullens waiting at the airport for Bella and Edward to return from their honeymoon in Breaking Dawn. A rare moment of Carlisle insecurity and doubt. Thanks for reading.

**Carlisle's POV**

I glanced at Rosalie from the corner of my eye. She was still standing motionlessly, her eyes riveted to the place Bella and Edward would emerge.

I was uncertain of what she was intending. She had joined the rest of the family in our haste to leave the house and get to the airport to meet her brother and sister-in-law, but she had not spoken, nor had she physically expressed any disgust with the situation. This was unexpected, considering her previous displays of irritation with and anger toward Bella and Edward. I had anticipated a firestorm of fury from her after Edward's phone call. But she had said nothing. She had shown nothing. Except tense anticipation.

It was unnerving.

Emmett nudged her in the ribs with his elbow, a subtle reminder to move, to look human. She blinked, but otherwise didn't move, her golden eyes remaining locked on a point in the direction of the gates. Alice shifted beside them, her own eyes distant and unfocused, scanning. She, too, was wondering about Rosalie's behavior. But from her expression, it seemed she could come to no more conclusions than I. The only thing we both seemed certain of was that, despite her intensity, there appeared to be no threat imminent in Rosalie. Of that I was sure, and I was greatly relieved. I had not been looking forward to protecting Bella from Rosalie, or to intervening when Edward acted in Bella's defense.

On Alice's right, Jasper stood nearly as rigidly as Rosalie. His gaze was on Alice's face as he waited for a sign of what he should expect and how he should react. Her eyes continued to search blindly, and I wondered if Rosalie was purposefully masking her decisions to keep Alice from interceding. The thought unsettled me further, and I concentrated on the knowledge that Rosalie intended no violence. As unusual as her actions were, I would refrain from taking her aside unless that fact changed.

Having a set course of action calmed me. As did the hand that gently squeezed mine.

I looked to the woman standing on my left. Esme's eyes were tight with concern and fear, but she curved her lips slightly into a smile when she met my gaze. I found it extremely difficult to return the expression. But even as I forced the smile, I kept my features serene and my eyes clear. I had to stay in control. Appear sure. Confident.

Even if I wasn't.

Alice had said Bella was determined to keep the baby. Edward was, of course, determined to keep Bella, and that meant aborting what he felt was an abomination, a punishment, his hell on Earth. From what I'd heard of the situation, I believed Edward to be correct in his assumption that Bella already was dying, and that abortion would be the only option for her survival. We had to convince her to let us save her. Because Edward wouldn't live without her. And because we loved them both too much to lose either of them.

Again, I felt a strong pang of guilt and pain that I smothered before it could mar my careful expression. Bella was human. Innocent. Good. Pure. And she was wrapped up in a world of darkness and torment, a world with which she had tried and failed to keep pace. A world that was making a final and unthinkably vile attempt to claim her life.

I had caused this. I had caused all of this.

Because I was lonely and weak, I had changed Edward in a moment of desperation. I had taken his innocence and his soul. I had done so again with Esme and Rosalie. I had been weak a final time, I had thought, when Rosalie had pleaded with me to "save" Emmett.

But this… What I had allowed to happen to Bella was beyond forgiveness. If I had a soul, as she so adamantly believed that I did, my standing by and permitting, my _encouraging_ this outcome surely had reduced it to the blackest of hellfire ash.

I had known her goodness from the moment I met her. I had seen it, felt it. I had looked into her wide brown eyes and seen the purity of her soul shining plainly there. I had seen the innocent girl before me, but I also had seen the strong woman inside her. I had loved her immediately, as though she had been made to be a part of my family.

And because of that, I had let myself be deluded into thinking this was right. Into seeing not how she was good, but how good she was for Edward, how she brought him to life after so many years of night, how the strength of their connection was unprecedented, how much he loved her and how much she loved him. How determined she was to be one of us.

Because I wanted to, I believed her when she said she knew that it would work out in the end. And because I believed it, I made no move to end this dangerous charade like I should have.

I had let Edward stay with her until he finally killed her.

_No_, I thought angrily. I wouldn't let her die. We _would_ convince her to abort. To save herself – and Edward in the process. I _would_ keep her alive. I would save her the way I should have from the beginning.

There was a shift in the air, and I tilted my head slightly toward the breeze and inhaled. "They've exited the plane."

Esme squeezed my hand again as Rosalie went impossibly more still beside me. Alice still searched desperately, knowing Edward and Bella's decisions, but not her sister's. Jasper didn't know how to position himself. Even Emmett was intense in his focus as he watched the corridor ahead of us.

I took in more air to judge the scent as my son and daughter-in-law drew closer. Bella's was still strong, still potently appealing, but… different. There was a twinge to it now, a strange, slightly off-putting coolness. The baby's scent, combined with hers, was sending a signal – it was unhealthy for both of them, unnatural. Unsafe.

We already were nearly out of time.

When they rounded the corner, I felt my body lock down in shock. Bella was walking slightly unsteadily beside Edward, her hand in his. She was as pale as he, her face damp with sweat, her skin tinged a light green, as though she'd been sick recently. Her eyes were sunken and darkly rimmed. Her dark hair hung limp over her shoulders. Everything about her was weakened and ill. She was the exact opposite of the vibrant, happy girl whose cheek I had kissed only weeks before when I had sent her on her honeymoon.

And there, already evident under her shirt, was the reason why.

I barely had focused on the too-large bump of her belly when she suddenly was running, sprinting toward us with a burst of energy, and sailing straight into Rosalie's waiting arms.

I stared at the two women in shock as they embraced. Then I lifted my head and looked at Edward, who seemed even more surprised than I. But his astonished expression did nothing to mask his own wear; he was as sick as Bella. His face was drawn and exhausted, his eyes shadowed with fear, revulsion, and desperation. As he gazed at his wife, I could see clearly in his eyes that he was dying just as slowly and as surely as she was. And that he knew, now, that he had lost.

As I watched him watch her, everything fell into place. Everything I should have seen before, but was too anxious and worried to comprehend. The place where my heart should have been felt hollow and cold.

Bella wanted a protector.

Rosalie wanted a baby.

I wouldn't be able to save Bella now. None of us would.


	8. BD Epilogue: College BPOV

**A/N:** Breaking Dawn epilogue from Bella's POV, set about a decade after the end of the novel. If Bella (and her family) had gone to college (perhaps Dartmouth). Thanks for reading.

**BPOV**

"Literature is full of stock characters: stereotypes and placeholders, mostly. Paris serves as a device to force Juliet's hand. He is a threat, creating the deadline that forms the timeline of the story. But even with that heavy task – being the romantic rival, the embodiment of the elements that seek to separate Romeo from Juliet – Paris falls victim to his two-dimensional stock characterization. Thus he is an idea more than a person, and is largely forgettable."

"So does that mean Shakespeare is a weak writer?" Lindsay asked, frowning. "Using a stock character rather than… fleshing him out or something, making all his characters three-dimensional?"

"But Paris wasn't important besides his presence as Juliet's betrothed," Danielle countered. "So he served his purpose. Why would Shakespeare waste time on making him more complex?"

"Still, though, a 'great' writer like Shakespeare should have been able to make Paris a little more three-dimensional," John argued. "He wouldn't have had to waste time, per se, just made him a person."

"Ah." I smiled, careful not to expose too much of my teeth, but very happy with the exchange between my students. "And this is what I want you to think about. Shakespeare and many other writers who are considered 'great' include stock characters in their works. For those of you in the rhetoric track, I would like you to write a three- to five-page paper outlining your thoughts on the use of stock characters. They became stock for a reason; explain if you think the reason is overuse or undeniable truth, and relate that to your decision whether 'good' writers will always avoid these types of characters or they may use them, within reason.

"Those of you in the creative writing major, I would like you to write a scene in which Paris – or Rosalind, for that matter, either one – is characterized. Maybe Rosalind never knew Romeo even existed. Maybe Paris was Juliet's best friend." My eyes landed on a head of shaggy black hair in the back of the room and danced quickly away. "Maybe in your version, she does love him in her own way, and the decision to marry Romeo is a harder one for her to make. Whatever you choose, make your stock character dynamic, and see how that would alter the story."

"Dr. Cullen? Would it be okay if we do the assignment for the creative writers even if we're rhetoric majors?"

Christine's question seemed to be of interest for many of my rhetoricians. Good; I'd rather read scenes than essays, anyway. I nodded. "That will be fine. They're due next Thursday. That's all for today. See you Tuesday."

The students began gathering their things and standing. I wandered behind my desk to slowly put away my own materials, entertained by the energetic discussions that sprang up in pockets throughout the room. Several pairs and small groups drifted out, debating how to characterize Paris. I was looking forward to reading what they came up with.

Finally, only one student was left. He lounged lazily in his seat against the back wall. I didn't look up as I tucked my copy of _Romeo and Juliet_ into my bag. After a moment, he remarked casually, "So you have a thing for this Paris guy, huh?"

I smiled, finally baring all my teeth without concern. "I used to." My smile turned to a smirk. "But then I remembered that it's _Romeo_ and Juliet, not Paris and Juliet. She belongs with Romeo."

Jacob let out a rude snicker. "Clearly." He tucked in his long legs and stood, stretching, then wandered to the front row and sat on top of the desk diagonal from mine. I rounded my desk to face him and leaned a hip against the corner. "So which assignment do I have to turn in, Teach?"

"Both."

That earned a short bark of laughter. "You've already seen my version of Paris. You've even analyzed it, looks like."

"That doesn't excuse you."

"We both know I'm not writing anything." Jake grinned at me, his teeth a flash of white against his copper skin. "You wouldn't read it, anyway."

"That's true. I wouldn't be able to survive the effort."

Jacob suddenly looked thoughtful. "Although… Maybe I'll write one where Rosalind and Paris hook up. I mean, the poor guy gets dumped by Juliet. He deserves to get a little something in return."

I only heard half his words. My lips curled back over the snarl that suddenly rolled low in my throat. "That's still my daughter you're talking about," I reminded him darkly.

The reaction would have been enough to send a normal human falling over himself to get out of the room and away; a normal werewolf would have been preparing to phase and defend.

Jacob was neither. "Easy, Bells." He grinned at me. "Your vampire's showing."

I relaxed slowly. "I hate it when you do that."

"I know." His grin widened.

I tried to glare. "Were you _always_ this annoying?"

He spread his hands. "Haven't changed."

I couldn't help but smile at his impish expression. "Right. I did." I shook my head. "Nessie's coming. Can you at least _try_ to behave?"

"I don't think she'd want me to." I felt my lip curl slightly. He laughed and held up his hands. "Okay, okay."

We both turned toward the door as light footsteps approached. A moment later Renesmee wandered in, frowning down at a math text that lay open in her hand. Her bronze curls, the exact shade of Edward's hair, spilled down around her face, partially concealing her intent expression. "They need to set a definite value for _x_ so people don't have to try to solve for it all the time," she muttered without looking up.

I smiled. My daughter was good at math, but she liked it about as much as I did. I had sympathized when she had tried to talk me out of making her take it in college, but I had requested that she do the normal curriculum. At least the first time.

When she didn't receive a reply to her statement, she finally stopped a few feet away from us and lifted her head. Her wide brown eyes – my human eyes – landed on me first. "Hey, Mom." She glanced at Jacob. "Hey, Jake." Her eyes skipped from him to me and back again, and she demanded, "So what did you say now?"

Jake feigned innocence. "What do you mean?"

Renesmee rolled her eyes at his virtuous expression. She looked pointedly at me, then turned back to him. "Mom's got her tolerant look on. What did you say?"

"I was just reminding her why she loves me."

I laughed. "Yeah, you're lucky I do," I retorted. "And I expect a _very_ good characterization of Paris from you."

Jake chuckled. "You already got one."

"So you say." I cocked a brow.

"All right, I'll write the paper. Sheesh, Bells. This is the last time I sign up for one of your classes."

"Thank God."

Renesmee burst into laughter. I smiled widely at the music of it. "You two are ridiculous," she commented. She leaned over my desk and slid her math book into my bag, then reached out for Jacob's hand. He straightened and took her hand in his, completely swallowing it in his large grasp. "We're going to the movies," she told me. "Then out to hunt. We'll probably be back late. I want to be ready for tomorrow."

"Good idea," I replied.

She grinned and stepped closer to kiss my cheek. At the touch, a memory popped into my mind: a silver Volvo pulling into the guest parking lot only minutes ago, when Renesmee had been climbing the stairs to get here. Her grin turned knowing when she pulled back. "Have fun with Dad," she murmured, her eyes dancing with amusement. Then she turned and tugged Jacob from the room. He smirked over his shoulder at me the entire way.

I heard them stop in the hallway and speak to someone. I sensed him long before I heard his velvet voice. When he said good-bye to Renesmee and Jacob, I was leaning back against my desk, facing the door and smiling. His answering smile when he stepped in was wide and immediate. "Hello, Mrs. Cullen."

"Dr. Cullen," I replied, cocking my head at him as he approached. "You're out of the hospital early. What's the occasion?"

"I couldn't wait to see you." He stopped inches from me and bent down to capture my lips with his.

When he finally released me, I tilted my head back to look up at his face. His golden eyes still smoldered every time he looked at me, a miracle I couldn't get used to. His hair was a little more tousled than usual; he must have driven here with the windows down. I reached up to weave my fingers through the disarray. "It's a little bright outside for you to have driven over now."

"It's cloudy enough. The sun hasn't broken all the way through yet." He closed his eyes briefly under my touch, then gazed down at me again. "I was at work, thinking about you finishing your last class of the week right now, and I just couldn't finish out my day. We don't have much time left before this weekend to be alone."

"Ness and Jake are headed to the movies," I commented.

His eyes turned tender. "She told me. She is so beautiful. Just like her mother." He kissed me again, quickly, before beginning, "Our family will be here before the sun comes up tomorrow. Alice has plans to take you shopping."

I cringed. Alice's idea of what a teacher should wear was drastically different from mine. My mind willed my fingers to work nervously along the hem of my blue button-up blouse, to alternately lift and smooth it over my black slacks in the anxious motion that was still my first instinct when stressed. Instead, my body went perfectly still. Edward smiled a little and cupped my cheek in his hand. His thumb moved soothingly over my cheekbone, leaving a gentle electric hum in its wake. My mind stopped its anxious spiraling in response as I leaned into his touch. "She'll be dragging Esme, Rosalie, and Ness with you. Not that it will be a difficult task to persuade them." He paused, suddenly amused. "And she's bringing the Porsche."

I groaned. "I _hate_ that thing."

Edward's eyes were liquid gold as he chuckled at my dismay. He continued, "Jasper and Emmett are taking me hunting with Carlisle. Seth and the wolves will keep Jacob busy. So we'll all be split up rather effectively the moment they arrive."

"Like always," I reminded him. This may have been our first stint in our own home, several thousand miles away from our family, but the basics were the same: Alice arrives, Alice conquers. There was no alone time with my sister around. "So where does that leave us now?"

Edward's lips twitched. "That leaves us with very little time," he murmured, leaning over me to bury his nose in my hair and inhale, "for a parent-teacher conference."

I burst into laughter and pressed my hand to his chest, shoving him back – but not too far. He grinned down at me, his arms wrapping loosely around my waist as I replied, "Parent-teacher, hm?"

"I'm a parent," he reminded me, leaning down again to slide his cheek along mine. His face burrowed into my hair, and his lips whispered at my ear, "You're a teacher."

I shivered. "We have about five minutes to get to the car before the sun comes out," I reminded him.

The words were barely out of my mouth before my bag was in his hand, I was in his arms, and we were headed for the stairs. In seconds, we were in the Volvo, on our way out of the parking lot.

On our way home.


	9. Eclipse Angry Bella: BPOV

**A/N:** My version of the conversation that takes place in Bella's room after Edward disables Bella's truck to keep her from going to La Push in Eclipse. Thanks for reading.

**BPOV**

The cold swirled in. I shivered and stepped back from the window. It wouldn't take him long to come in. Charlie still had the game on downstairs, so any sounds we made up here in my room would be drowned out by the television. He wouldn't need to wait for Charlie to go to bed.

I paced to my closet, then to my dresser. I picked up a book without seeing which one it was and immediately set it back down. I shouldn't be pacing in my cold room. I should be in La Push right now, talking with Jacob.

Why did it always take me so long to make a decision? If I hadn't wavered so long, I would have been on my way before Alice saw my intention. But I always had to think it through and debate with myself – and get so involved in my internal deliberation that I would forget Alice could see my future bouncing around like a pinball.

Not that it would have mattered. Even if I had decided earlier, Edward still would have been close enough to catch my speed-challenged truck long before I reached the La Push border.

I thought about what Edward had said in the truck while he was holding part of its engine, which he probably had reassembled by now. He didn't want me to go to La Push because he was scared of what could happen to me while I was outside of his reach and Alice's vision. And I understood his reasoning. I knew how it felt to think that something may happen to the one you loved before you could arrive to prevent it, to not know what was happening, to feel blind and helpless. I knew how it felt to know that at any second you could lose that person forever because you were close enough to save him but unable to reach him. I knew that he was trying to protect me – and so was Alice, for that matter.

But I didn't need to be protected from my own best friend.

I picked up another book and slammed it back down a little too roughly. I didn't need to be told what to do like a child. I didn't need to be confined to my house. I should be allowed to decide whom I could visit and when, without having my _boyfriend_ tell me I couldn't, without having him physically restrain me from doing what I wanted.

And here I was, waiting for him to climb through my open bedroom window, because even as annoyed as I was with him, I couldn't make myself keep him out for _one night_. No wonder he couldn't understand when I wanted to act independently of him. I wasn't even capable of keeping a pane of glass between us.

There was a quiet sound at the window, but I didn't turn. He always entered silently, so I knew that he intentionally was making noise to let me know that he was there. But I didn't want to face him yet.

There was a pause. He didn't move away from the window, and I kept my gaze riveted to the cover of whatever book I had just put down. I still didn't know what it was.

Then, finally, he whispered, "Bella?"

His voice was almost pained. He knew that I was angry, and it upset him to have upset me. But he wasn't – wouldn't be – apologetic. He only would be understanding of my reaction. That wasn't what I wanted from him. Not right now. I traced my fingers blindly over the splashes of color on the book's cover, wishing I'd had the strength to keep the window closed tonight.

After another pause, he tried again, "Bella, love, I don't want you to be angry with me. But I _will_ stay away tonight, if you don't want to see me."

More understanding. He didn't like that I was distancing myself from him, but he was respecting the space. And I always hated the space. With a sigh, I turned to face him, but I crossed my arms over my chest and gazed at him without a word, determined to keep myself away from him despite my intense desire to close the distance between us. I needed to do _something_ tonight to show him I was my own person. No matter how much I hated it, or hated myself for hating it.

Edward's face was the picture of concern. He was relieved that I finally had turned to look at him; I could see that relief in his eyes. But he was tormented by the rift that was still evident between us. I hated seeing that look on his face. I hated _causing_ that look. I curled my fingers around my ribs to keep myself still, and I thought of Jacob. My best friend, whom _he_ was keeping me from seeing. And then, stronger than the urge to go to Edward's side, came the frustration and annoyance that I was still here to _go_ to Edward _because_ he had kept me here.

I almost smiled, proud of myself. I was holding on to my anger, even in the face of Edward's distress. And the anger actually was building again. Good.

For a long moment, we simply gazed at one another from opposite sides of the room. Edward's body had gone statue-still with stress as he waited for me to speak. I wondered absently if it would be possible for me to outlast him when he was like this, for me to keep quiet longer than an immortal to whom time meant very little.

It wasn't long before I learned that yes, I could.

His voice was low and strained when he begged, "Bella, please. Talk to me."

I drew in a breath to brace myself. To my surprise, my words came out steady and strong. "There's nothing I can say, Edward. You won't listen. You've made that _very_ clear."

Edward frowned. "I listen, Bella. I listen to everything you say. But you don't know… You don't understand. You don't know the wolves—"

"_I_ don't know the wolves? I practically _lived_ at La Push for _months_. You and your family are the ones who don't know them. You have nothing to do with them. How can you—?" I cut myself off, shocked by my own outburst, and pulled in another breath. When I was collected again, I went on, "You're the one who doesn't understand. Who just… won't."

Edward still hadn't moved, but his eyes were wide with surprise at my sudden aggression. It was so rare for him to be stunned that I would have laughed if the circumstances were different. As it was, I took advantage of the opportunity. I steeled myself for what I was about to say and plowed on, "While you were… gone… He was there for me. All the time. He took care of me."

The surprise turned to pain in his eyes so quickly I blinked. "I'm just trying to keep you safe, Bella," he murmured.

"I know. But he kept me safe. I was never in danger with him. I know you can't believe that. You can't trust him. But I do. I'm asking you to trust _me_. Please, Edward," I beseeched, searching his face. "It's important to me. _He's_ important to me."

Edward's face twisted. "Bella, I just… I can't. _You _are important to _me_, and I can't stand by and allow you to cross that line when I know what could happen, when I wouldn't be able to stop it, to even _see_ it coming…." His voice faltered and almost dropped away. "I can't… _lose_ you again. I can't let you risk it."

His eyes burned on mine. Every part of his body was rigid with stress. The memory of Italy, of our combined sense of loss, was clear on every plane of his features. I softened, remembering again how it felt to need to protect, but to be helpless to do so. I wasn't able to stop myself from going to him then. I crossed the room and stopped directly in front of him. My hand found his face, and I cradled his cheek in my palm. His fingers looped lightly around my wrist. But even as I touched him, as I stared into his anguished eyes, I held on to my argument. It was compulsion now, a pressure in my chest, and I wouldn't have been able to stop even if I had wanted to. "I know you're trying to take care of me," I told him quietly. "But if I _want_ to 'risk it,' if I _want_ to go, you have no right to stop me. You have no right to keep me prisoner just because you can."

The word hit him hard. "Prisoner…?" he echoed dully.

"How do you think I feel, not being allowed to leave my house? Being kept from going when I want to go by someone faster and stronger than I am?" I skimmed my thumb along his cheekbone as comprehension dawned on his features. Then I pulled my hand away and lifted my chin, preparing to be stubborn. "It's not fair, Edward. It's not fair for you to use your advantages against me. I'm… human." I muttered it like a curse. "And I can't possibly stand against you. And I don't want to have to. But you're not respecting my decisions, my ability to act as an independent _person_, someone with a _brain_ who can act on her own choices and live her life. I know you want to protect me. But right now, you're stifling me." I straightened my spine in a proud gesture. "And you're insulting me."

"Insulting you?" Edward still looked pained…and baffled.

"I'm not stupid, Edward. I should be able to decide things for myself, not have you make the decisions for me just because you have the ability to enforce them."

There was a long silence as Edward struggled to find the words to reply. Finally he forced out, "I… I'm sorry, Bella, I just… I can't…."

I could see the war in his eyes, the lingering pain, and I suddenly was very, very weary. Making my point was more draining than I had imagined, and I was out of energy. "I know," I assured him. I took another step back and looked away. "I'm… tired, Edward. I don't want to fight with you. I want to go to bed."

His voice was lost, broken, when he whispered, "Do you want me to leave?"

I looked at him again, staring straight into his eyes. "No. I want you to stay," I told him honestly. "But I won't force you."

My final blow found its mark. His eyes changed again, and he still didn't move as I turned away from him, no longer able to look him in the face.

I didn't bother changing into my pajamas. I simply kicked off my shoes and crawled over the comforter to my pillow. A second later I heard the window close, and Edward tucked my quilt carefully around me.

There was a hesitation, and I reached out into the darkness. Edward's cold hand slid into mine, and he stretched out on top of the quilt beside me. I felt him tuck the cover more securely around me as I closed my eyes and buried my face in his chest. I didn't want to see the look in his eyes. "I love you, Edward," I mumbled into his shirt, reminding him that no matter what I'd said to him tonight, that fact hadn't changed.

His cheek rested against the top of my head. "I love you, Bella," he whispered, his arm tightening around me.

I slowly drifted off to sleep in his embrace, not sure what I had won tonight, but glad I had let him know how I felt, from my silence the moment he had climbed through the window to the gentle kiss on his chest that was my last conscious thought.


	10. Eclipse Flamethrower Bella: BPOV

**A/N**: A friend wanted to see a comedic version of the previous scene (Bella angry with Edward after he disables her truck in Eclipse), so I wrote this. I don't usually write comedy, so please go easy on me. Thanks.

**BPOV**

I paced away from the open window as the cold swirled in. Then I whirled and slammed it closed again. The glass shuddered for a moment before I sighed and flung it back up. I glared out into the dark. My gaze landed on my truck, and I growled under my breath and slammed the window back down.

Open. Closed. Open. Closed. Open. _Closed_.

I nodded at my reflection in the glass, my eyes narrowed in determination. Stupid overprotective vampire. He could just stay out there in the cold. Not that he was bothered by the temperature. But it was the principle of the thing. Dismantling my poor truck's engine? Physically preventing me from leaving my own home? Over the line. I wasn't going to let him come into my room to visit the pitiful little human in her safe prison.

I was still glaring at my reflection when a pale face appeared on the other side of the dark glass. I fell back with a little squeal that melted into a curse. He was getting the better of me again. Jerk.

Quickly, I straightened my spine and glowered into his pleading eyes. "Visiting hours are over," I told him in normal volume, as though there was no barrier. I knew that he could hear me perfectly. Annoying superhuman.

"Bella, please," he began. "Try to understand."

"Oh, I understand," I replied. "You tell me what to do now. I have to get permission to leave? Is that it? My plans all have to be approved by the vampire warden? And if I try to escape, you'll just disembowel my truck?"

His brows lowered as he took in my anger. "I'm not keeping you prisoner, Bella."

I raised my brows back at him. "You're not? You disabled my truck. I couldn't drive off. And what, you'd let me walk away? Not likely. You'd just pick me up and throw me over your shoulder like a… caveman… a freaking Fred Flintstone in designer clothes, and you'd carry me back inside. Don't try to say you wouldn't! There's no way you would have let me go to La Push at all."

My voice was rising, and I knew it. But Charlie had the game on downstairs. He wouldn't hear me. I could tell that Edward knew that by the way he didn't spare a glance toward my bedroom door. But he still tried, the manipulator. "Don't get upset, Bella. Charlie will hear you."

"Charlie's two inches from the television screen," I countered. "And he acts less like my father than you do." I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm dating a man who wants to act like my dad. What does that say about me? God. That's… not right."

Edward's face twisted. "I've told you you shouldn't be with me."

"Oh, get over the vampire crap, for heaven's sake." I rolled my eyes. "I don't care about the 'creature of the night' bull. I don't like the control freak. And if you hate the difference between us so much, why do you keep stressing it by acting like such a… nonhuman? Stop doing things like appearing in my truck with pieces of it in your hand! And stop looking toward the door like you think Charlie's coming. I know you're reading his mind, and he's not moving from the TV."

"You approve of my reading his mind, but not my dismantling your truck?" Edward cocked his head at me. "Men can dismantle engines, Bella, but they can't read minds."

"Charlie's mind isn't hard to read. _I_ could read it right now." I waved that away. "You can go hang out in the driveway for the rest of the night to make sure I don't try to sneak out. You may miss your chance to drag me up the side of the house and back to my room."

"I wouldn't drag you up the side of your house."

I eyed him. He was hanging from the eaves with a grace that was sickening, just holding a conversation with me like it was nothing. His face glowed in the night, an angel's face, begging forgiveness, waiting for my will to crumble.

And I suddenly felt the urge to let him in.

I took a large step back. "Jasper," I hissed. "Tell him to leave. If he messes with my emotions right now, I will… do… something…. God! Get him out of here."

Edward looked down and said something sharply. I heard Emmett's voice from below, something that sounded suspiciously like, "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair." Edward spoke more abruptly, and Emmett snickered. The next comment sounded like a suggestion to "just get the dog neutered."

That did it.

I opened my closet and dragged out the remains of the radio Emmett had installed in my truck for my birthday. Edward blinked in surprise when I flung the window open. He was so startled that he made no move to stop me. I hefted the radio into my arms and leaned out the window beside him, then heaved the box down into the darkness. I heard a muffled curse and a thud, then a "Hey! Is this the… radio? Holy… Look what she did to it! Are you sure she's human, Edward?"

Edward looked up at me, but he didn't respond to his brother. I shut the window in his face. "Go home," I ordered. "And take Tweedledum and Tweedledumber with you."

"I…can't, Bella. I can't leave you angry like this."

I felt my anger swelling. "Fine. Don't leave. You can just hang outside the window all night like a freaking BAT. A FREAKING VAMPIRE BAT. I am NOT LETTING YOU IN."

There was a chuckle from the yard below. Edward ignored it. "Please, Bella—"

"Don't _make_ me get the flamethrower."

There was a pause. "When did you get a flamethrower?"

"Yesterday. At the Thriftway. They were half price with the purchase of garlic and holy water."

A longer pause as the vampires outside considered that bit of news. I felt a little strange, as though my will were being tested. I leaned closer to the window. "You'll be the first to get fricasseed, Jasper, I swear it!"

The sensation stopped. And the yard suddenly felt very empty.

Edward muttered something under his breath. Then he looked into my eyes and cringed slightly. I glared back. He asked, "Garlic and holy water?"

"I was making vegetable soup."

He tried to make the connection and couldn't. I didn't elaborate. He began again, "Bella, can't you try to understand—"

"No."

He growled quietly. Suddenly he flung the window open and was inside so quickly I didn't have time to react. He hesitated just inside, and I grabbed a book from my nightstand and hurled it at him. He snagged it just before it struck his face. "I told you not to come in!" I yelled at him. "Or did you miss the VAMPIRE BAT part?"

I threw another book at him. He swatted it away distractedly, his eyes on the door. I launched three more books before I realized that he wasn't paying attention. Without warning, he was gone, back outside, leaving the window open. The last book thumped against the wall where he'd been standing.

My bedroom door slammed open an instant later. Charlie jumped in, waving his gun erratically. "THERE'S A BAT?" he demanded, keeping his head down as he swung the weapon wildly around to the corners of the ceiling.

I swallowed a laugh. "Not anymore, Dad," I assured him. "It went out the window."

"Oh." Charlie straightened slowly, smoothing his shirt and lowering his gun. He tried to recover some of his dignity as he surveyed the room, which was now strewn with the remains of my paperback arsenal. "You should keep the window closed, Bells," he told me. I watched him cross the room and shut the window. I tried to keep the smugness out of my smile when he turned back to me. "Keep the cold out. You don't like the cold."

"No," I agreed. "I don't. Thanks for the rescue, Dad."

"Sure." He shrugged, embarrassed. "Well… Good night, Bells. Get some sleep."

"I will. Night, Dad." When he left, closing the door behind him, I turned back to my room. Edward was already inside again. Before I could react, he was across the room, his arms around my waist. I gasped as he carried me to the bed so quickly it felt like he'd thrown me. His arms cradled me carefully as I landed, though, and he set me gently down on the comforter. I shoved against his chest, pushing him away from me. "Let me go."

"Bella, you almost had your father shoot me tonight," he said quietly.

"Not on purpose," I muttered.

"No," he allowed. "But the rest was. A vampire bat, Bella? Really?" He paused, studying me. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, but also a twinge of pain. "If you truly dislike the cold, you should have told me. I would have kept my distance."

I felt an unwelcome stab of my own pain. "I didn't mean that."

He reached down to pick up one of the books that I'd thrown and held it up for me to see. "As you didn't mean to strike me with _Heart of Darkness_?"

Suddenly I felt a giggle well up inside me. I tried to keep it from breaking through. "Well, maybe that was intentional."

At his expression, I couldn't keep the laughter in anymore. I grabbed the front of his shirt in my fist and pulled him to me so I could bury my face in his chest in an effort to stifle my snickers. I felt him chuckle as he wrapped an arm around my waist. "Oh, God," I choked out. "I really am absurd, aren't I."

"It makes you intriguing."

I snorted. "Right." I snuggled into him, fitting myself carefully into his stone curves and breathing in his scent. "For the record, I'm still not happy with what you did tonight."

"I am aware of that."

"Good. I thought I may have been too subtle." I hid my smile against his chest. "You do need to let me have my freedom, Edward. I'm not your child, or your pet. I'm your girlfriend. And Jacob is my friend. I have a right to see him."

"I'm sorry, Bella, for my behavior tonight."

"That's not an agreement."

I felt him laugh quietly again. "No, it's not, you're right. I'll work on that."

"You do that." I paused, then added, "And I'll work on my aversion to the cold."

His arms tightened around me. "We have a deal." There was a long silence as I burrowed closer to him, letting him hold me as I began to drift off to sleep. I was almost out of it completely when he whispered, "Were you really making vegetable soup?"

I laughed quietly in the dark and kissed his chest, but I kept that secret to myself.


	11. Meeting His Girls: CPOV

**A/N:** Back to Charlie's POV. Several friends wanted to see Charlie meeting Renesmee and seeing the new Bella for the first time, so I wrote this one. Thanks for reading.

**Charlie's POV**

I'd only been to the Cullens' twice. Once for the graduation party and once for the wedding. And both times, I'd only found the driveway because it had been decorated for the events. Even Bella hadn't been totally sure where it was.

I did know that I was getting close. I slowed the cruiser and searched the trees for the opening, but even looking for it, I almost passed it.

I growled a little as I backed the cruiser up enough to make the turn. As wealthy as the Cullens were, they should have been able to clear their driveway once in a while.

But maybe, I thought as the foliage pressed in around the car, they liked it this way.

After what Jacob Black had told me less than an hour before, after what he'd _shown_ me, I didn't have trouble believing that.

I cringed away from the memory of him… changing… _exploding_… into something huge and monstrous, then fading back into himself. Acting casual. Like he hadn't done anything strange. Then telling me about Bella. How she _had_ been sick, but now she's better, but different. More like Esme than Renee…. Not like him, though, thank God. But different enough for her to hide from me. For her to lie to me.

She'd known about him, he'd said. She'd known about all of it. Every part of his world and whatever world the Cullens lived in. She'd known it all from the moment she'd met Edward. And she'd chosen to marry him, to be a part of whatever this all was. She'd chosen to let them change her into whatever _they_ were.

That did _not_ make me feel any better.

But he'd told me about the child. Nessie. The orphan Edward and Bella were adopting. I was going to be a… a grandpa. My daughter was going to be a mother. Just married, and already a parent. So young.

I wanted to see the little girl. I wanted to see _my_ little girl. So I'd told Jacob as much. I'd demanded. I didn't want to know the details of _any_ of the weirdness. I wanted it all to fit, to be normal. But even if it wasn't… I wanted to see her. To see them.

Jake had seemed pleased with my reaction. He asked me to allow him time to prepare them for my arrival. That had seemed a bit… ominous. But I'd agreed. After he had run off into the trees, I'd given him ten minutes.

And now I was winding my way down the Cullens' drive, trying to convince myself that I was driving so slowly because of the mud and the tight tunnel of undergrowth that boxed me in, and not because I was fighting to ward off an anxiety attack as I drew closer to seeing what had happened to Bella.

The foliage broke open so abruptly it was startling. I slowed the cruiser even more to stare at the big white house. It was pretty, but… wrong, somehow.

When I reached the end of the drive, I put the car in park but let it idle. I stared blindly at the house. It was little more than a bright blur in my vision. I didn't want to go in. I didn't want to get out of the car.

But I had to see Bella.

Firmly, I cut the engine and jerked the keys from the ignition. I swung the door open and stepped out, closed the door behind me. Then hesitated again.

Bella.

I tucked the keys in my pocket and took the three steps across the grass, the eight steps up the porch, and the four across the porch to the door. There, I stood absolutely still, remembering.

The last time I'd stood on this porch, I'd held Renee's hand as we watched Bella leave. She'd looked back at us to call "I love you" before she'd driven away in Edward's car. She'd been glowing. Happy. Beautiful. That was how I remembered her. How I _wanted_ to remember her.

I was terrified to knock. To see what she'd needed to hide from me.

I drew in a deep breath to steady myself. Then another.

Bella was in there. My daughter. My girl. My baby.

I knocked.

Carlisle opened the door. He looked welcoming, but embarrassed. He should. He'd been lying to me. About _my_ girl. He was lucky I didn't have my gun.

"Hello, Charlie," he said, holding the door open for me to enter.

I stepped in, my body and voice stiff. "Carlisle. Where's Bella?"

"Right here, Dad."

The voice was like bells. Music. The pattern of it was familiar, but the lilt was foreign. It didn't fit with the words. I turned toward the speaker, my face blank as I tried to connect my name to the person who spoke it.

When I saw her, the entire world fell out from under my feet. I felt completely hollowed out in an instant. She wasn't Bella. But somehow… she was. My stomach twisted painfully. My Bella was gone. I wanted to run. To give in to the fear that had chased me the entire way here. I didn't want to see her. I didn't want to see what they had done to her. What they had convinced her to _allow_ them to do.

Everything inside me just… _hurt_ to see her.

I stared. "Is that you, Bella?"

"Yep," she replied in that haunting new voice. She smiled a little, ruefully. "Hi, Dad."

I had to remember to breathe. I pulled in air like it would alter my vision. But it didn't, and the person sitting on the couch didn't change.

She did resemble Esme now. Her skin was smooth and whiter than before. Her hair seemed darker against the paleness of her face. Her features were perfect. Everything about her seemed perfect. Even sitting, she had some sort of aura around her, a sort of physical presence she had never possessed. She seemed… graceful, sitting there. Elegant, somehow. Almost unnaturally poised and blindingly beautiful. And somehow, there was something under that. Something to do with how lithe she was. How almost… animal-like.

Speaking of.

"Hey, Charlie," Jake piped up from the floor across the room. "How're things?"

I glowered over at him. His grin reminded me of his expression from before, and I shuddered and turned my attention quickly back to Bella. I tried to comprehend as I walked toward her. Then I noticed Edward sitting beside her and I shot him a dark glare. Rage rolled in my belly. He was responsible for all of this. He was luckier than Carlisle that I'd left my gun at home.

I made myself turn to Bella again. "Bella?"

When she answered, it seemed like she was trying to make her voice sound right. "It's really me."

Her effort didn't work. My jaw locked as I watched her mouth form the words that didn't make sense. She noticed and rushed to apologize. To try to make it better like she always did. "I'm sorry, Dad."

Her apology didn't work, either. I looked into her eyes and noticed for the first time that they had changed, too. They weren't the right shade of brown. They were darker, muddier. They were the only thing about her that was less attractive than before. And they made me feel more uncomfortable than anything else about her.

I forced myself to hold her gaze. "Are you okay?"

"Really and truly great," she promised. "Healthy as a horse."

"Jake told me this was… necessary," I said slowly. "That you were dying." I didn't believe that. At all. She looked too strong to have been that ill recently. And I didn't believe that she had needed to change to survive. That sounded like a load of crap to explain away what they had done to her.

Bella drew in a deliberate breath. Edward's arm tightened around her shoulders as though he was soothing her. For breathing? And as some emotion flamed in Bella's strange new eyes, even Jacob looked surprisingly sympathetic. "Jacob was telling the truth," she assured me.

I felt a flare of anger. "That makes one of you."

Bella's face filled with remorse. Before she could comment, there was a movement in her arms, and she looked down so quickly she seemed to blur. I followed her gaze much more slowly. For the first time, I realized that she was holding something.

She was holding a child.

I blinked in surprise. "Oh. This is her." I couldn't get a clear look because the girl hid her face in Bella's long hair, but I could see that her own hair was bronze ringlets. "The orphan Jacob said you're adopting."

"My niece."

I glared at Edward again when he spoke up, his voice sliding casually into the conversation. Musical in a way I'd rather not consider at the moment. "I thought you'd lost your family," I accused.

Edward didn't react to my tone. He answered calmly, "I lost my parents. My older brother was adopted, like me. I never saw him after that. But the courts located me when he and his wife died in a car accident, leaving their only child without any other family."

When he silenced, the girl peeked through Bella's hair at me. She seemed to sniff the air as she looked out, then she ducked away again. The part of her face I'd seen was angelic. "She's… she's, well, she's a beauty," I admitted.

Edward agreed. "Yes."

I was relieved with this normal topic, and very interested in the girl I couldn't see. "Kind of a big responsibility, though," I commented. "You two are just getting started."

"What else could we do?" Edward touched the child's cheek lightly with his fingertips. "Would you have refused her?"

"Hmph. Well." I doubted I could, so I shook my head. "Jake says you call her Nessie?"

"No, we don't." Bella's voice was sharp, piercing. The sudden aggression in it chilled me. "Her name is Renesmee."

I faltered a second, trying not to look as scared as I felt. "How do you feel about this?" I asked. "Maybe Carlisle and Esme could—"

"She's mine," Bella bit off. "I _want_ her."

Her voice wasn't as wild that time, but it was ferocious. It was little more than a snarl. I frowned. I didn't want her to see that she was scaring the hell out of me, so I demanded, "You gonna make me a grandpa so young?"

Edward interjected, "Carlisle is a grandfather, too."

I glanced at godlike Carlisle and couldn't help but snort out a laugh. "I guess that does sort of make me feel better." I lowered my gaze to the child again. "She sure is something to look at."

This time, when Renesmee peeked out at me, she shook free of Bella's hair and looked me in the face. Her eyes locked with mine. I heard myself gasp. Then I was fighting to breathe.

_These_ were the eyes I'd been searching for in Bella's face.

I started counting frantically, mouthing the numbers as I tried to make it work. To make nine months fit into one. Because there was no doubt. None at all.

This was Bella's daughter.

I felt a hand pat my back. Jake's voice was in my ear. "Need to know, Charlie. It's okay. I promise."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. For a moment, I could only nod dumbly. My brain didn't want to work. Then my eyes landed on Edward, and fury burned clear. I stepped toward him. My fists clenched involuntarily, but gladly. "I don't want to know everything, but I'm done with the lies!"

He looked sympathetic but not at all ruffled. "I'm sorry, but you need to know the public story more than you need to know the truth," he told me. "If you're going to be part of this secret, the public story is the one that counts. It's to protect Bella and Renesmee as well as the rest of us. Can you go along with the lies for them?"

He said the only words I would've been able to hear. Protect Bella. Protect Renesmee. My fists opened. I huffed and turned to Bella again. "You might've given me some warning, kid."

"Would it really have made this any easier?" she countered.

I frowned and knelt in front of her. Renesmee smiled and reached out a hand. For some reason, Bella quickly pulled her arm back in. Renesmee pushed her other hand against Bella's neck. I ignored their movements. I was focused on the full set of teeth the infant had just bared at me. "Whoa. How old is she?"

Bella looked trapped. "Um…"

Edward stepped in again. "Three months. Rather, she's the size of a three-month-old, more or less. She's younger in some ways, more mature in others."

Renesmee seemed over her tiff with Bella. She was looking at me again. Suddenly she lifted her hand and waved, very deliberately. I felt myself blinking spastically, but I couldn't stop. An elbow nudged my ribs. "Told you she was special, didn't I?" Jake said proudly.

I cringed away from the contact. I still wasn't sure what he was, or if I wanted to be anywhere near him. He rolled his eyes at my reaction. "Oh, c'mon, Charlie. I'm the same person I've always been. Just pretend this afternoon didn't happen."

I pressed my lips together and nodded sharply. "Just what _is_ your part in all this, Jake?" I asked. "How much does Billy know? Why are you here?"

Jacob looked at Bella's daughter. His face practically lit up. "Well, I could tell you all about it – Billy knows absolutely everything – but it involves a lot of stuff about werewo—"

"Ungh!" I cut him off and covered my ears. I refused to hear that word. "Never mind!"

The grin Jacob flashed me was the same impish smile he'd always worn. It would have been soothing to see it in any other context. "Everything's going to be great, Charlie," he promised. "Just try not to believe anything you see."

I muttered under my breath. A bellow from behind me made me jump, my heart flying up into my throat. "Woo!" Emmett yelled. "Go Gators!"

Jacob jumped at the outburst, too, but it seemed like everyone else in the room had frozen. I looked over my shoulder at Emmett to find the huge Cullen with his face inches from the television. "Florida winning?" I asked distractedly.

"Just scored the first touchdown." He looked over at Bella and said something about scoring, but I was busy trying to gather my thoughts. Football. Reality. Normal. I could sort things out while I watched the game. It would calm me down to watch.

I dragged in a lungful of air, pulling it in as deep as I could stand. Then I shoved to my feet and stepped carefully around Jacob. My legs barely carried me to the empty chair before I fell into it. "Well," I began, locking my unfocused gaze on the familiar colors and shapes on the screen. "I guess we should see if they can hold on to the lead."


	12. BD Old Friends: BPOV

**A/N:** Twilight is Meyer's. No copyright infringement intended. Thanks for reading, and for reviewing.

This scene takes place not long after the conclusion of BD.

**BPOV**

The silver of the Volvo gleamed damply under the lights. I smiled as I remembered Edward's expression when I'd picked up his keys and walked out. He always was so disappointed when I didn't want to drive the Ferrari. He couldn't understand that I liked to run.

I had to show up at Charlie's in a car, though. If I came without one, it freaked him out. But there was no way I was driving that ego trip on wheels. If I had to drive, I would be driving the Volvo. Edward could just deal with it.

Unfortunately, the Volvo was out of gas. I felt the station attendant watching me from the cash register inside. Had I been too still? I couldn't remember if I'd fidgeted since I'd removed the pump from the machine. Very subtly, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and lifted my hand to tuck my hair behind my ear. I still could feel the boy's eyes on me, but I also could hear the speeding of his heart.

Interesting.

To test it, I sank my teeth into my bottom lip like I'd always done when I was human. The motion still felt incredibly odd with my new skin and teeth. But the boy's heart shifted into overdrive.

I never would get used to that.

Edward would be growling softly beside me right now, I thought. And I was uncomfortable with the boy's attention now that I knew for sure that he was gawking at me, so I leaned a little to the side to put the machine between my body and the window. I sensed the teenager moving around in the building, and I wanted to sigh. He was trying to see around the gas pump.

Unbelievable.

The numbers ticked slowly on the machine as the boy searched for a better vantage point. This was tedious. I considered only filling the Volvo halfway. But then I'd have to come back to the station sooner. I debated as the numbers crept higher. I didn't drive much. I wouldn't need to come back for a while. And I could talk Edward into stopping next time. He'd wanted to fill the car up for me this time, like he always did, but I'd wanted to be normal and do it myself.

So I stayed and watched the numbers roll.

The tank was only half full when I was aware of the other car. I heard it long before it got to the station. I also heard the heated voices of the passengers, one male and one female. I scented warm blood, made warmer by the argument. Venom filled my mouth, and I swallowed hard. I immediately stopped breathing. My body locked down. I wondered vaguely if the attendant could see me now. I figured he couldn't. I didn't detect any alarm from inside the building.

The car drew closer as I focused on fighting my instincts. After a short struggle, I managed to inhale again. Shift my weight again. Become human again. The paralysis that protected but endangered me was gone.

Just in time.

The car pulled into the station and stopped at the pump diagonal from mine. I stayed turned away from it so the cool, misty night air blew into my face and swirled the humans' scent downwind as much as possible, and I forced myself to keep breathing so the scent wouldn't have a chance to take me by surprise.

Even so, the burning was agonizing the instant the other car's doors swung open. It took a great deal of control not to crush the nozzle in my hand. But I overcame the urge, and I pushed it down.

Then, suddenly, the voices rang clear as the bloodlust faded from my mind. And the place where my heart should have been felt like a block of ice.

"I wasn't looking at the waitress!"

"You always look at the waitress! I don't know why I keep going out with you!"

Oh, crap.

I kept my face averted as Mike Newton glared at Jessica Stanley over the roof of his car. "I don't know why I go out with you, either."

"I come home from school for _one weekend_ and it _has_ to be the same weekend _you_ come home. Then I let you talk me into giving you another chance, and this is what I get. High school all over again." Mike started to reply, but she cut him off. "God, Mike, it's one in the morning. Just fill up the car so I can go home."

My brain raced through all my options before Mike could round the front of his car. I didn't want anyone I had known as a human to see me now. It would be too dangerous for them to perceive the change, and I didn't want to put my family at risk by raising any flags. I had thought I would be safely unnoticed at one A.M., especially with all my high school friends off at different colleges. Leave it to Jessica and Mike to be difficult.

I could return the nozzle and be in the Volvo before they even knew that I was there. They would recognize the car, but they wouldn't get a look at me. But I didn't know if there were any cameras monitoring the station. I didn't hear the whirring of any video equipment, but if there _were_ cameras, anyone who watched the footage would have a nice view of my face before I suddenly disappeared.

I never had been good at making decisions.

Mike froze about a foot from the pump. I felt his gaze center on me. His heart hesitated, then gave a painful-sounding slam.

_Crap_.

Jessica grew even more irritated when she noticed his reaction. She stepped up beside him and glanced toward me, and I felt the tension explode off her. "Jeez, Mike, you're staring at _another_ girl now? What's your problem? Can't you—" Then her gaze focused on me, and she froze, too. "Bella?"

Forcing myself to maintain human speed, I returned the nozzle and replaced the gas cap, then I casually slid into the driver's seat and closed the door as though I hadn't noticed them. I hoped I hadn't moved too smoothly, but I knew that it didn't make much difference. They had seen the difference in me.

Three pairs of eyes followed me as I pulled out of the station. Mike and Jessica didn't speak until I was halfway down the street. Then I heard Mike mumble, "Wow."

For once, Jessica didn't snap at him. Her response lacked punch. "She's married, Mike."

His voice was reverent. "Yeah."

There was a pause before Jessica ordered quietly, "Fill up the car." Then she got in and closed the door.

Yeah. From now on, I was letting Edward buy the gas.


	13. BD La Bella Italia: EPOV

**A/N:** Twilight is Meyer's. No copyright infringement intended. Thanks for reading, and for reviewing.

This takes place not long after the end of BD.

**EPOV**

I pulled the Volvo into a parking space in front of the restaurant. The same parking space.

It seemed like another life.

I sat for a moment, staring blindly out the windshield with my hand still wrapped loosely around the steering wheel. Letting myself remember.

Finally, a much smaller and much warmer hand lightly touched the back of mine. An image flashed into my mind: the front of the restaurant, then my pensive expression. The vision was underscored by a faint confusion, a question.

Renesmee knew that she didn't have to touch me for me to be able to read her thoughts. But she touched my hand when she wanted my attention, because she still preferred showing her mind over speaking it. I must have seemed out of her reach, I realized. I played the memory back in my mind. Yes. I did look extraordinarily distracted.

Not unusual when I was thinking of her mother.

I smiled over at her. "This is the place," I told her.

Nessie's thoughts still reflected a pale confusion as she pulled her hand away. She glanced toward the sign in front of the building. "La Bella Italia" popped into my mind, with a special emphasis on "Bella." An image of her mother, threaded with an intense affection, was paired with the word. My smile broadened.

"Yes," I agreed. "The same name. Coincidental." Or perhaps not, now that I considered it; perhaps it was fate. I believed in fate much more these days.

As Nessie began to mull over the idea of my taking her to a human restaurant, I explained, "We'll be leaving Forks soon. I wanted you to see this place before we do." I looked past her to examine the front of the restaurant with my own eyes. "It is very important to your mother and me."

Renesmee spoke then. "Was this where you had your first date?"

I should have known that she would understand the concept. Just as she knew so many other things, like how to act around humans, and how to be inconspicuous, she understood ideas that were beyond her physical age. That was a large part of the reason I believed we could do this now.

"Not exactly," I answered. I paused. "I want us to go inside. But I need you to remember that these humans may recognize me. We can't draw attention to ourselves." I considered her. She appeared to be around seven years old physically, and I knew that there was no possibility that the resemblance between us would go unnoticed. So it was the niece storyline again, I decided. "When they can hear, you must play the part of my niece. They must not know that you are my daughter. You understand?"

She nodded. I nodded once in return and got out of the car. When I opened her door for her, Renesmee jumped out and took my hand. I escorted her inside the restaurant and immediately was grateful for my warning.

The hostess was the same woman. And she remembered me.

Her eyes lit up when we walked in. _He looks as good as ever_, her thoughts practically sighed. She leaned against the podium as she gave me a quick once-over.

And she noticed Nessie.

"Hello," she said, straightening quickly and trying not to ogle me too openly while Nessie was watching. "Welcome to La Bella Italia."

"Hello," I returned. "My niece and I would like a table. I was hoping we could have the booth in the back?"

"Of course. Follow me." She turned to lead us through the restaurant, and I rolled my eyes at her chaotic thoughts. _His niece? So much like him… Cute little ringlets the same exact shade as his hair… Wonder where the girl is he had with him last time… Maybe he's single?_

It was a relief when she escorted us around the dividing wall to the private booth in the corner and turned to find Nessie smiling up at her. Her mind immediately was distracted. No one could deny Nessie.

"Here you are, sweetie," she crooned. "Would you like some crayons?"

"No, thank you," Nessie replied politely. She climbed into the booth, moving a little less agilely than usual, more clumsily, like a human child. She was good at the charade.

I sat with her. "Would you please ask the waitress to give us a few minutes before she comes by?"

The hostess's attention dragged back to me. Her mind became a jumble again when she met my gaze. "Sure. I'll let her know."

She placed our menus on the table and walked away. I watched her leave, making sure she and everyone else was out of earshot before I turned back to the table. Renesmee was surveying her surroundings when I looked down at her. Her eyes drifted to me. Her head cocked to the side, and she replayed in her mind the last part of our conversation from the car. She wanted the story.

I took a moment to collect myself. The memories were overwhelming, here in this booth in the corner. Sitting here with Bella, fragile, human Bella, on that night so long ago… Worrying about her health, about her future, about _her_, as I tried to come to grips with the desires she had stirred within me… And wondering, always wondering, what she was thinking, what she thought of me, of what I was.

I'd found out exactly what she'd thought that night. And it had changed everything.

My smile had turned wistful as I'd been lost in thought. Renesmee pondered my expression, and I realized that the waitress would arrive soon. I needed to begin my tale.

I drew in a long breath. "Your mother came to Port Angeles with some friends," I said quietly. I was surprised by how strained my voice sounded. It deepened as I went on carefully, "She got separated, and she ran into some… unpleasant… men."

Renesmee noticed my slight snarl. "You would have killed them to save her," she commented simply.

There was no hesitation in my reply. "Yes."

"But you didn't…" She studied my face. "_Because_ of her."

My anger faded quickly. A memory of Bella's human face, her wide eyes chocolate brown and trusting, flashed into my mind. My voice was soft when I spoke again. Reverent. "Because she saved me."

Renesmee was unsurprised. "Momma's kind of heroic like that."

"Yes." I smiled, warmly this time. Lovingly. "She is." I paused, then resumed my story. "I brought her here because this was where her friends were to meet her. But she let them go home without her. She stayed with me."

I was silent for a moment then, lost in my memory. I went on slowly, almost to myself, "She had already figured out what I was. And she wasn't afraid. She… _wanted_ to be with me." It still amazed me. Even now. "She sat in this booth with me and ate while I answered her questions. We talked candidly about my abilities. On the drive home, she admitted that she knew what I was. And she told me that she didn't care, that it didn't matter to her.

"That was the night I decided she may be crazy," I added with a grin. "But I knew that, even if she were, I would take care of her. Because I loved her."

Nessie glanced around again. I could see her piecing it together in her mind, trying to picture it all. "You knew she loved you, too, that night?"

"I realized that she cared for me then. I didn't fully understand the depth of her feelings until later, because I believed that she couldn't feel as strongly about me as I did about her. I was wrong about that." I'd been very wrong, I thought. I'd underestimated Bella in the beginning. There was nothing I didn't believe her capable of now.

Renesmee's eyes – Bella's human eyes – were intent on me. "Momma surprised you."

"Constantly." I turned toward the kitchen, my attention drawn toward a vaguely familiar mind. It seemed the same waitress still worked here, as well. The hostess had told her I was here, and her thoughts were every bit as lewd now as they had been that first night. Even without seeing me in person yet. "The waitress will be here in a minute," I cautioned. "You'll need to eat a little."

"What did Momma order?" Nessie asked curiously.

"Coke," I answered instantly. "And mushroom ravioli." Nessie wrinkled her nose, and I smiled softly. "She seemed to like it. Or at least, she pretended to."

Nessie fell silent. Her mind was a swirl of images. She was playing back our conversation and filling in what parts she could with what she knew. I was impressed by how clearly she could imagine Bella as a human. Her only memory of her mother before Bella's change was immediately following Nessie's dangerous birth. All other images came from pictures she'd seen. But she had a very solid vision of the Bella I had first fallen in love with.

It made me smile to see that Bella again, even this way. Nessie's thoughts made my memory, perfect and vivid, pick up again, tracing every human feature I'd memorized here in this very booth. Vulnerable and blushing and clumsy, but strong and brave and sure…

The waitress's arrival pulled both of us out of our reveries. "What can I get you?" she asked, her thoughts shouting suggestions I was glad Renesmee couldn't hear.

"Nothing for me." I indicated that she should focus on Nessie.

She turned reluctantly, then she smiled widely when she saw my daughter's face. "And what would you like, honey?" she asked with sudden enthusiasm.

Nessie pushed her unopened menu on top of mine. "Coke," she said. Her eyes, Bella's eyes, were bright on me as she smiled. "And mushroom ravioli."


End file.
